Bellarke: 2920 Days Alone
by Justafandomgirl
Summary: After waking up in an inferno, Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake have no memory of their past, their single clue being a card with their names and ages. 2919 days pass, each a danger. But their whole world truly shatters once their 2920th day comes. Realizations of their loyalties emerge, but what happens when they realize their personal survival means less than saving each other?
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1**

 **Clarke**

The little girl woke up to the smell of burning.

Heat seemed to swallow her, an uncomfortable blanket that just kept squeezing and tightening its grip. Maybe if she didn't open her eyes, she would realize this was all a dream. Maybe the blanket would fall away.

Something else wrapped around her, besides the heat. Someone's arms. _It doesn't matter who they are._ She thought. _This is all a dream and I'm about to wake up. So it doesn't matter whose arms are around me._

Her eyes squeezed shut, tighter and tighter, but instead of waking up, more tears just squeezed out of her eyes, dripping down her cheek.

There was nothing to do but open her eyes. She had to face the flames.

She opened her eyes, and turning her head, realized the arms wrapped around her belonged to a corpse.

A scream bubbled from out of her throat, causing her to start hacking and coughing. There was too much smoke in her eyes, too much smoke in her lungs. She was trapped in an inferno, and the last thing she was going to see before she died was a corpse.

She clenched her hand, realizing that she was holding onto a plastic card. Chubby fingers clutched onto it for dear life. "I'm gonna die." She thought. "I'm gonna die."

She was paralyzed by the heat and the fear and the confusion, all of it too overwhelming, all of it seeming to break her down piece by piece. Curling in a ball, she just willed it to stop. Coughs exploded from her throat, the smoke weakening her body, until she could barely move. Until all she could do was crawl and drag herself across the metal floor.

 _Everything will be fine if I just climb out of the door. Everything will be fine…_

But the outside was no better. The smell of burning grass filled her nostrils, and she started coughing up blood. She was dying. She was already dead.

She closed her eyes and started swaying back and forth, back and forth. Everything was spinning, everything blurred, and she was sure she was going to black out-

Until a hand grabbed hers. "Come on." A boy told her, gently and calmly and completely non panicked. She followed him out of the fire, coughing and hacking the whole way.

 _He must be some sort of angel._ She thought. _What did I do to deserve an angel?_

She ran with her guardian angel, ran on weakened legs, ran as fast as her body would let her. Running on pure adrenaline, pure fear, pure terror. The world was on fire- the heat still seemed to lick the bottom of her feet. Nothing stopped spinning and blurring-

And then, slowly, they were away from it. Away from the monster that was the fire. Clear, pure air flooded into her throat after every deep breath.

They stopped, to the relief of the girl. "Stay." The boy ordered.

"Don't leave me." The girl's eyes overflowed. "I can't…"

"You'll be OK. I promise I won't let you get hurt." The boy's eyes softened. "I'll be back soon."

The last thing she saw before she blacked out were his deep, brown eyes.

The girl woke up to another fire. She scurried to sit up, to escape lest she trapped by more heat, more flames, more smoke, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Relax." He said. "It's just a campfire. I'm roasting some of the food I could salvage from that metal ship we woke up on."

She stared at the boy. He seemed young… about her age. A mop of hair covered his face, but she could still see the smattering of freckles on his cheeks and nose. Brown eyes poked out from under the disheveled, curly locks of hair.

The girl cocked her head. "You don't look like an angel. Or any sort of protecter, really." The girl blurted out.

"What-" The boy stammered in confusion.

"You look too young. And too wild. And not clean enough." She noticed some dirt on his face. "You just seem too much like a… a kid."

The brown eyes rolled in frustration. "Because I am. I'm not some angel." The boy rolled his eyes. "And excuse me for having dirt on my face. It's not easy saving the life of a bratty little kid."

"I'm not bratty! I was just saying the truth." The girl was taken aback. Who was he to call her bratty? "You don't seem very nice yourself."

"Whatever. Just be happy I saved your life." The boy turned away from her and faced the fire.

The girl squeezed her hand into a fist, and realized the plastic card she was holding when she had woken up wasn't in her hand anymore. Did she drop it?

"Where is it?" She screeched. "Where's the card?"

"What, this?" He held it up over her head.

"Give me!" She swiped the card from his hand.

"What's it say?" The boy asked through a mouthful of food.

"Don't eat with your mouth full! And it says; Clarke Griffin. Age 10. Good luck." The girl said. So. Her name was Clarke.

"Huh. I'm the same same age as you." The boy grimaced. "The card says that I'm 10, too. My name is Bellamy Blake, by the way."

"So, Bellamy Blake, you might not be an angel, but do you have any idea where the we are?" The girl- Clarke, rather- grabbed some meat off the of the spit. Delicious. Her stomach begged for more, but she wasn't going to be rude and take more than her fair share.

"I have no idea." Bellamy sat down and looked into the fire. "I don't really remember… anything."

"I don't, either." Clarke sank back down, still gripping onto the card. The only clue she had to her past. The only key to her clouded memories. A gaping pit seemed to open up in her heart, and she was falling, falling. No idea where she was. All she had was fear.

She had to put on a strong facade, couldn't let this boy think she was weak and small and just a little scared girl. But the truth was, that was exactly who she was. She was terrified. It was dark, and she was alone, except for this one boy she didn't even know. At least, before, she had thought she had an angel to protect her. The only thing keeping her safe now was a 10-year-old kid and herself.

"Hey, we're going to be OK." Bellamy's eyes seemed to cut right through her semblance of bravery, his voice softening. Clarke willed back any witty remarks and stared back at him. They weren't the eyes of a guardian angel, but they were human. And they willed for her to trust him, to trust that they would survive. Together.

"OK." Clarke leaned back and looked to the sky. It was kinda… pretty. If you cared about that stuff. So many stars, framed by tall trees… crickets chirping in the distance, a cool breeze on her face. She could get used to this.

She closed her eyes, laid down on the damp ground, and willed herself to go to sleep.

Clarke was running through metal hallways. She heard a woman's voice in her head; "Go. Go. Run!"

The woman's voice pounded through her body and forced her to keep on going. She didn't know where was was headed, but the monster behind her would kill her if she stopped.

But she was too slow, even with the woman's voice encouraging her. Or maybe the monster was just too fast. It finally caught up to her, grabbing her. Stuffing her into a metal cage, which started dropping and dropping and dropping and dropping...

Clarke screamed, jolting awake. Sweat dripped off of her brow, and she started shaking. It was only a dream, only a dream…

Bellamy scurried over to her and before she could even blink, he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. "It's OK, Clarke. It's OK."

"It… it was chasing me." Clarke sobbed, shivering into Bellamy's chest. The smell of the smoke of the fire and pine needles on his shirt filled her nose. "And I wasn't fast enough to run away." Bellamy just kept on rocking her, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… Clarke started to calm down, her dream fading from her mind, and all she could think of was Bellamy. He was real, unlike the dream. He was there _._

"No one is going to hurt you." He murmured into her ear. "I won't let that happen. We're in this together."

Bellamy leaned backwards, laying on the ground… Clarke used his head as a pillow. His breath was steady, his chest rising up and down, up and down, up and down. His heart slow. She measured his breaths and the rising of his chest and the beat of his heart until she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bellamy**

 **Bellamy smiled at the blond girl running in front of him. It had only been 4 weeks since he had woken up with no memory of who he used to be. In that short time, he and Clarke had become inseparable, against all odds.**

 **"** **Bellamy, come here!" Clarke gestured for him to come closer. Her blue eyes lit up with excitement. She had seen an animal.**

 **Food.**

 **Food was all that was important, on the hunting trips. All they wanted was a full meal, something to keep them full for more than a few hours. A squirrel, or a rabbit, would suffice, but it wasn't what they wanted, wasn't what they were both hoping for.**

 **"** **What is it?" He asked. A grin spread on his face.** ** _Please, be a deer, please, be a deer, please, be a-_**

 **"** **Just a rabbit." Clarke grinned. He wilted, but immediately forced a grin. Why make her feel bad about her find, no matter how small it was? At least it was food. "That's great!"**

 **"** **Oh, shut up. It's not the rabbit I'm excited about. It's wounded!" Clarke smiled.**

 **Bellamy rolled his eyes. "It's just a stupid animal. Why do you-"**

 **"** **I know, I know. We've had this conversation 50 gazillion times. But I feel better about killing if it's already hurt- we're giving it mercy instead of cutting its life short-"**

 **"** **Fine." They had talked about the hunting of the woodland creatures thousands of times, and every argument just left him more and more confused. Hunting was such a thrill, and killing the animals left him with no guilt whatsoever. Still, if it made her happy, why not look for wounded animals to kill? They were easier to hunt, anyway.**

 **He sauntered over to the rabbit. It had already lost one leg, probably to some coyote or something. It'd gotten away, but its luck was about to run out.**

 ** _Here goes nothing._** **Bellamy threw his spear towards the rabbit- and he missed.**

 **Clarke groaned.**

 **"** **Sorry." Bellamy sighed. He brought his hand up to his forehead and pinched his nose. Exhaustion and hunger threatened to overtake him… he had been giving most of his rations to Clarke, so that she wouldn't be to hungry. A stupid decision, but he couldn't bear to** ** _not_** **give her food... she was so small, so fragile, and malnourishment would kill her faster than him. His protective instincts would kill him at some point, but at least she would stay alive. "We still have some food packets left from the ship, and-"**

 **"** **Yeah." Clarke frowned. "We haven't caught anything in forever, though…"**

 **Blood boiled in his veins. "Look, I'm sorry that you got unlucky enough to end up with someone with such a bad shot." Why was this girl so aggravatingly blunt? "You don't seem to understand how difficult it is to kill an animal, especially one so small…"**

 **"** **Sorry." She squeaked, and as she scurried away from him, and his stomach twisted. His stupid temper had flared up, and although it had left as quickly as it came, it was enough to make her annoyed at him. Or worse, scared of him. He was such an idiot for turning on his only friend, his only ally. If they couldn't work together, they wouldn't survive.**

 **They walked for a little while, in silence, avoiding any conversation after his snap at her. He had to stop thinking about the girl… they would get over the little tiff they had. All that mattered was getting food.**

 **All of the sudden, he heard a stick snap. "Stand still." He told Clarke. Her face lit up, and even though he tried to stop it, his stomach growled in anticipation- it sounded like a big animal. He hadn't eaten a full meal in so long.**

 **And then, he saw it. Large, green eyes peered through branches of trees- human eyes.**

 **"** **Clarke. Back up slowly." Bellamy told her. Her initial excitement faded to confusion. Bellamy stuck out his arm in front of her body, a protective instinct. He knew that everything she did, every action she took and every sentence she uttered to him, was to help build up a mask, a facade that would make him think of her as strong and independent and not reliant on his help. But he couldn't help but feel the need to protect her. She was just so small, so fragile...**

 **"** **What is it?" She asked him, all of her quippiness gone. Her pretense of bravery faded to uncertainty. Fear made her voice tremble.**

 **"** **I'm not sure. On the count of three, we're going to run. Three, two-"**

 **He didn't make it to three. The human- he was definitely sure it was a human now- jumped out of the tree and right on top of him. He winced in pain as a bone snapped in his arm. Clarke's screamed echoed in the trees, but she didn't move.**

 **"** **Clarke, run!" Bellamy yelled through gritted teeth. Tears blurred the world around him. He had never felt pain like this before, or, at least, he couldn't remember it if he had. Everything was new to him, including pain. A stabbing feeling exploded in his arm, and it was hot and sharp and unbearable. He screamed, and then instantly snapped his mouth shut, his eyes closing, as if it would stop the pain.**

 **He looked up into the eyes of the human, and she studied him carefully. Black war paint covered the area around her eyes and on her cheeks, making her look even more deadly. She was dangerous, calculating. She knew the forest's secrets better than Bellamy and Clarke. And she looked ready for blood.**

 **The woman's hands wrapped around Bellamy's neck, and she pushed, hard. All air was pushed from his life, and he forgot about the pain in his arm. He would trade the broken arm pain for his anyday- her strong, calloused hands suffocated, squished the life out of him. What had he done to cause her to kill him? He looked around for Clarke, half-hoping to see that she had run away, but half-hoping that she was there in his last moments before his death. He saw her blond hair in the corner of his vision, and his eyes met hers.** ** _Go._** **He tried to tell her telepathically. She didn't.**

 **Everything turned fuzzy, blurred. His heart pounded, begging for oxygen to pump into his body. He lurched up, his back arching, attempting to kick her or flail his arms or do anything that might get her off of him, but she had him pinned down.**

 **All he wanted was one breath of fresh air. The pain was unbearable, so overpowering that all thoughts, escaped his mind except for AIR. AIR. AIR.**

 **His eyes drifted, and seeing the small girl with blond hair, he remembered why he wanted to stay alive. To protect her. He couldn't leave her alone, to die. She was so small and fragile and she was** ** _Clarke…_**

 **But her eyes betrayed her. They startled him, although they shouldn't have, knowing her personality. The seemed to burn with fire and anger, no fear being visible, and all fragility seemed to fade away. Small hands grabbed Bellamy's spear from where he had dropped it and walked up to the woman.**

 **"** **Let him go!" Her voice quivered, but she looked at the woman head on. The woman tilted her head quizzically, and looked down at Bellamy.**

 **"** **Why should I?" The woman smiled dangerously down at him. "You are on our land. We have every right to kill you. And I'm sure I'm a better fighter than you." The woman let go of Bellamy, and as he gasped for sweet, clean air, he watched her grab the spear from Clarke, kick her down on the ground, and aim the spear towards her chest.**

 **"** **Clarke!" Bellamy screamed out. "Look, we're sorry, we'll never come here again. We didn't know!"**

 **The woman narrowed her sharp, green eyes. She spun around and looked at Bellamy, getting so close that she could feel her breath on his face.**

 **"** **I'll spare the girl mercy, as she wasn't the one actually hunting on our grounds." The woman jabbed her spear into Bellamy's chest before he even had time to speak. Clarke cried out, but he could barely hear her voice. "You better hope that I don't find out what clan you're in. I will not spare them to same mercy I have spared the girl." The woman spit in his face. "Leave here, and don't come back."**

 **She shoved Bellamy, and before he had time to look up, she was gone in the trees.**

 **Clarke rushed over to him. "Bellamy!" Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the wound. Blood poured onto her hands, his life draining away. "I can't… we can't…"**

 **Bellamy forced a few words out of his lips before everything went dark,**

 **"** **You'll figure something out. I trust you."**

 **Note: I'm sorry for this chapter being shorter than normal. It's an important one, nonetheless, and longer chapters are coming soon. (If you didn't know, I already wrote the whole story out and I am just posting the chapters once a week, so I can assure you that the next chapter is longer and really cute). A TON of Bellarke is coming up, and a time jump as well. I'm very excited!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 29**

Clarke

Clarke leaned Bellamy against her shoulder and started back towards their camp. He was murmuring gibberish, things she couldn't understand. "The Ark," and "Mom," and "Octavia." The only word she really could pick out of the string of phrases was "Clarke," which warmed her heart and made her forget for a split second that he was about to die and it didn't matter what he was saying.

Her arm was sore, when they got back. She shouldn't have noticed- it was selfish of her to notice something so minute when her best friend had a spear in his chest- but it did hurt, and she knew she had to push the thought out of her mind, but it wasn't fair… she was just a kid Just a scared little girl who depended on her best friend to hunt for her and make sure they both survived… and he was going to die, and she was going to die, but even if she survived, he would be gone, and the world seemed like it was going to end, like it was falling to pieces…

And her mind rambled and rambled on, thinking of all the possibilities and each one leading to her inevitable death, or agonizing grief, or both. She couldn't think like this, and she knew that Bellamy would've yelled at her if he was awake, for thinking instead of doing, for worrying instead of working, but she couldn't help it.

Fingernails clenched into the palm of her hand. She squeezed, harder and harder, drawing blood. Her mind cleared as this first drop of her blood dripped onto the ground, all rambling thoughts pushed out of her brain. She had to do this. Had to save him.

Clarke laid Bellamy out on the ground. She looked through the box they had stuffed in the corner of their lean-to and rifled through the medicine and equipment.

The helplessness overwhelmed her, for a few seconds. She knew none of the tools in the kit, had no idea how to use any of them. She was useless. The desperation took over her body, her every thought. For 3 seconds. And then, she snapped herself out of it. He wasn't going to die. He _couldn't._ She was going to save him. She had to, after everything they'd been through together. After all the times he'd saved _her._

Some of the medicine looked familiar, even though she had no idea where she had seen them before. A soothing voice was in her head, telling her things. Names of tools. This was a scalpel. This was painkiller. This was antibiotic ointment.

She carried the kit to Bellamy. He was pale and clammy, sweat shining on his face. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head. Clarke closed her eyes for a second, determined not to vomit, and focused on his wound instead of his face.

There was no blood coming out of the spear, which she assumed was good.

The voice in her head told her to put pressure on Bellamy's wound. It told her to use a the ointment. It told her to wrap him up with a bandage.

It didn't tell her very much. It wasn't a miracle worker. But it was enough. Clarke was able to put together the pieces. Maybe this was the guardian angel she had been looking for.

Bellamy was still moaning. Over and over- "Clarke. Clarke. Clarke." And, quieter, and more infrequently- "Octavia. Octavia."

Clarke sighed after she was done. She poured some water done Bellamy's throat, and looked at his arm. It was awful, and very limp. The voice didn't give her any information, so she decided to put it out of her mind. Her fingers brushed away his curly hair from his forehead, sweat causing it to stick.

What would she do without Bellamy? If he didn't wake up? The thoughts made her want to throw up, to curl up in a ball and shurt her eyes to the world forever, but they flooded in, making her heart skip and her stomach to drop and her mind to become dizzy, the whole world spinning. Who would she talk to during hunting trips? Who would she confide in around the fire, that she was actually a little scared? Who would she lay down next to when it was cold? Who would she make eye contact with when she was lonely? She couldn't survive Earth without him, not just because she couldn't hunt, but because he was Bellamy, and she needed him. She had taken him for granted, and she would be punished for that in the worst possible way.

Clarke tried to stay awake to watch her friend. She fell asleep curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder.

Pain. All she felt was pain. Pain, both internal and external, pounding pain in her temple, pain from hunger, ripping through her body, pain from her ankle, which was swollen and purple and as large as a balloon… and pain from loneliness, ripping, agonizing pain in her chest. She missed… someone, although she didn't remember who. She missed someone. Everything started to spin, round and round and round… and slowly, the door in the front of the room she was in opened.

Clarke jolted awake. The dreams were getting worse. She tried to suppress them… the agony of them was unbearable. But the memory-dreams kept on coming back.

That's what she thought they were. Memories, that were suppressed. Things she didn't remember. If she suppressed them even more, perhaps they would go away.

Clarke sat up next to Bellamy. He was better, his head less hot, his skin less pale, his wound less… well… bloody. Now that Bellamy was getting better, she had something else to worry about.

Clarke unwrapped the bandage that was around her knee. The wound was still there- she hadn't imagined it. The other night, she had fallen on a rock and scratched herself. She was fine… but blood that stained her knee wasn't.

Her blood was black. Black as ink. Black as midnight.

As far as Clarke could tell, she was fine. She wasn't sick. She wasn't dying. But she couldn't tell Bellamy. He would call her a freak, a monster. He would laugh at her, kick her out of the camp. She was a monster. Why would he share his food and shelter with a monster?

So she kept the blood a secret. And laying next to her friend near the fire, she had never felt more alone.

 **Bellamy**

Bellamy woke up with Clarke curled beside him, her chest slowly rising and falling. He smiled to himself, before he felt the pain in his arm and his chest. A groan escaped his lips, which instantly woke Clarke up.

"You're awake!" She started tearing up, and launched herself on him in a hug.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow." He complained. His whole body ached, and stabbing pains pierced his chest. Fatigue seemed to weigh down on him, and he felt himself being pulled deeper and deeper into sleep.

But he couldn't. Because of Clarke. Sometimes, he hated feeling so protective of her.

He groggily lifted himself up, propping his body with shaking arms. He was weak, with hunger and fatigue. Weak, with pain.

"Hey. Slow down." Clarke was still smiling. Her stomach growled loudly, and she winced a little, but otherwise, she didn't show any pain. She was pretty good at hiding her hunger. But not good enough.

"We need food, Clarke." Bellamy reminded her.

"And I have some." Clarke dangled a piece of meat over Bellamy's head. The smell seemed to overtake everything else, and he grabbed and quickly swallowed it before thinking. It was delicious.

"Where did you-" Bellamy started.

"I hunted. I wasn't just going to wait for you to wake up to eat, Sleeping Beauty." She winked.

"You…" Blood boiled in his vein. He was asleep, and she was alone, in the woods, with no one to protect her. What was she _thinking?_ "You went by yourself? We're not alone here, Clarke!"

"Yeah, I know. But someone had to do it." She passed him another piece of meat. "And I'm going to have to start hunting for you. You're not going to die-" She looked almost giddy with the relief- "But you're not going to be able to hunt for a long while." She frowned in sympathy. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

A sigh escaped his lips, his heart slowing down to its normal beat. She was fine, and he was with her, and that was all that mattered, for now. "Hey, it's fine. Thanks for saving my life. I'd rather be alive with a broken arm than dead." He gave her a half smile. Her mouth quirked up in response, but her eyes were somewhere else, her mind in knots. She wasn't there, with him... there was something going on, something he didn't know about. She subconsciously rubbed her knee... a bandage was covering it.

"You're OK, right?"

Clarke jumped, meeting Bellamy's eyes. She looked like a frightened, small rabbit, a rabbit afraid for its life. He'd never seen her like this before.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Clarke shook her head, and her smile reached her eyes. "Go back to sleep, silly."

He leaned back, and as he felt Clarke beside him, he realized that with his best friend beside him, he had never felt less alone.


End file.
